Retrouvailles
by katyfaise
Summary: The happiness of meeting again after a long time. ExE AU.


**Y'all... I PROMISE I will update Challenges soon. I wrote myself into a corner and I don't know how to get out of it, so I got really overwhelmed and couldn't even look at the story. Anyway - hope this is okay because who doesn't love angsty Enjolras? Clearly it's very AU and I don't even know who I kept alive and killed in my mind and... this story is everywhere but I really love it for some odd reason. Hope you do to. Also feel free to follow me on tumblr at .com because I love connecting with fellow fans!**

* * *

Ten years.

Ten years since the revolution had failed and he'd barely escaped with his life. Enjolras had struggled for over a year to come to terms with letting those who believed in him down. He had been so sure that the people would join at the barricades and instead he and his comrades had been left to fight the people's war on their own. Although he had slowly been able to accept the death of some of his closest friends and the loss of a cause he had fought so prevalently for Enjolras was sure he would never correctly face the anger he felt toward the people of Paris.

Perhaps that's why, in the past ten years, Enjolras had become nothing more than a bitter recluse in his flat – content with rereading the texts he'd taken such solace in as a young man.

Of course he had tried at first to live something of a normal life and rest with the fact that the first revolution, although failed, had began something of a trend. People were rising against a corrupt government that did not value the very people it governed. But rather quickly Enjolras found his anger growing stronger each day until he decided it was best to stay inside, lest he take his bitterness out on the innocent.

Nothing prepared him though, for the barrage of invitations and random visits from Joly the week before explaining that his presence was expected and demanded at he and Muschietta's anniversary gathering.

"I've survived this long in the institution of marriage, if you do not attend I cannot speak for how long your life will be."

The threat, although made with a jolly laugh, was serious enough to bring Enjolras out of his stupor. He rather cared about his friends, especially the ones that had survived the barricades to continue living their lives. Those were the ones that he had not failed; those were the ones who would not judge him for his misdoings and the utter failure he felt he had been.

And perhaps one night in the comfort of friends would not dig his grave any deeper.

* * *

The motions of readying himself for the anniversary party were rather familiar, even though it had been a pain finding something he deemed appropriate. Enjolras had given away the items he felt he would no longer need in his reclusive state and that meant a majority of his clothes were given to those on the streets who needed them more. Luckily he'd managed to keep ahold of a nicer shirt and pair of trousers that he felt would suit the bill. Besides, he had left his flat – that was a big accomplishment in his opinion. The way he dressed could be pushed aside for just one night. But once inside the hall where Joly and Muchietta had gathered along with their closest friends and family, Enjolras had to admit he felt a bit underdressed and out of place. Events like these were no longer his norm and he was uncomfortable. Regardless of the small talk he was able to make with strangers and friends alike, Enjolras mostly found himself alone at a table nursing a glass of wine and he honestly preferred it that way.

The night wound down slowly – too slowly in Enjolras's mind. He did not wish to be rude and simply disappear, but making his way to Joly to announce his departure was near impossible with the amount of people in attendance. Luckily, more and more people began to take their leave. With an escape in sight, he downed his goblet of wine and made move to stand.

"Monsieur Enjolras?"

The raspy, yet familiar voice stopped the blond man dead in his tracks. How many years had it been since that voice had graced his presence? Although he still remained in Paris, he only guessed it had been nearly six years since he had heard any mention of the gamine. He turned so quick that he was afraid he neck would be broken. When Eponine was finally in his glance, Enjolras found himself speechless. Although her face showed nearly no signs of the passing of time, her collarbone was no longer prominent and her lanky limbs seemed much more in place than years before. Her clothes, while still not expensive, we no longer riddled with holes and the perpetual shiver had long disappeared.

Though, the most telling difference was the large swelling in her abdomen where Eponine lovingly rested her palm.

Enjolras was still at pause, perhaps for a moment too long because Eponine raised a brow and shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Do you not remember me? Of course, it has been years."

Although he had yet to answer, Enjolras could feel his mouth slowly opening. "Eponine…" Her name left his lips as easy as ever – no, he remembered her. Enjolras would never forget the barefooted gamine that he had personified as the struggle he had once fought for. Even as time moved on and Enjolras had thought more than once of acting on the feelings he'd once held for her, it had never come to fruition. Enjolras felt he was destined to be alone with his own demons and he had learned to like it that way.

"You do remember me!"

Never one for social graces, Enjolras's eyes moved to her middle and he swallowed. "You're with child?" As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to take them back. He should not have pointed out the obvious and he suddenly felt rather dumb. Fortunately, Eponine laughed and responded with a hearty nod.

"Nothing past you, Monsieur!" her tease brought the whisper of a smile to Enjolras face, but he was still in shock. "Oh how I wish Anton was here. He would have loved to meet you – the infamous leader of the student revolutions!" Perhaps the confused look on his face clued Eponine in because she slowed down, her voice returning to normal. "Anton is my husband. Funny thing marriage is. It's quite amazing what you find when you stop looking at the world through the eyes of a lovesick girl." Surprisingly, Eponine's voice held no venom. It was if she had finally accepted her responsibility to grow up and forget her silly feelings for Marius, but she was not angry.

Dammit – if only moving on were that easy for him.

How was it possible for someone like Eponine who had, in the simplest terms, a horrible life, to continue on with the smile on her face? She had never once lost her faith even when the man she loved did not love her back, or the only person she cared about in her family had been shot (a guilt that Enjolras would carry until his grave). Now it seemed as if she'd truly found her happiness and Enjolras could feel the happiness growing in the pits of his stomach. He might have been the tiniest pit jealous of her ability to brush the past aside, but Eponine had finally grabbed hold of something she deserved. It was all he had wanted for her.

Finally, as if everything flipped, Enjolras found himself inviting her to sit at the table where the two sank into comfortable conversation. Although around them, the other party goers seemed to be exiting one by one, the old friends conversed as if nothing had changed.

But after it neared an hour into their conversation, Enjolras realized how everything had changed. She was already standing and in search of her coat so she could return home; home to her semi comfortable life.

"It was… wonderful to see you again, Eponine." Enjolras helped her into her coat, trying to hide his smile when she revealed how tight the fabric was across her very pregnant belly. It had to be a new feeling to be in clothes that weren't too big for once. His eyes grazed her swollen stomach once more and he fought the sigh from leaving his lips. Maybe in another life, if Enjolras believed in that type of thing, he and Eponine could have had some sort of life together and the child that grew inside her would belong to him. Instead, Enjolras would be content with the happiness he felt now.

Eponine was alive and healthy and doing much better than he was. What more could he have wished for?

"Monsieur…" she began, lightly taking his hands into her own. "I must admit, I came to speak to you tonight because you looked dreadful all on your own." Eponine's eyes dropped from his face but Enjolras noticed she was picking her words carefully. "Are you happy?"

It was a rather strong question and before tonight, Enjolras wasn't sure if he could answer truly. Any other time he would have laughed and brushed the question aside as something silly, but for once he took a moment to truly consider an answer. But with Eponine here in such good graces, Enjolras smiled.

"Yes. And I'm happy [i]for[/i] you."

Eponine's bright smile returned to her lips and she allowed Enjolras to escort her from the hall and out into the cool night air. There were only a few goodbyes said between the two of them before Eponine refused Enjolras's offer to escort her out into the night since she was more than capable, even in her present state.

Things had not changed too much.

His eyes followed her until she disappeared fully from sight and with that, Enjolras too his leave, absently kicking stones as he made the journey to his own flat. Not much had changed in the course of the night but he could not deny the overwhelming feeling of joy he felt for the first time in the longest and he did not want it to disappear.

With final pause, and a silent prayer that he would not lose this new feeling, he glanced over his shoulder back in the direction Eponine had taken.

"Adieu, Eponine."


End file.
